The Classicist
by Aeilyn Montgomery
Summary: Grimmjow defects from Aizen's army and steals a valuable book along the way. But when the tome turns out to be untranslatable and the Soul Society has to hire the world's premiere classicist a young Irish woman things become interesting for the espada.
1. The Odyssey

Hey guys! This is my first fanfic centered around Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez, so I'm just going to go for it and see what happens.

As always, I would love your feedback. Please read and review! It'll help keep me inspired, and constructive criticism is always welcomed!

**Title: The Classicist **

**Rating: M (Language, later sexual content, violence)**

**Pairings: GrimmjowXOC (It'll be rather slow.)**

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach, or any of its characters. They all are a credit to the genius of Tite Kubo.

**Chapter 1: The Odyssey**

"_Wake up… and see with your own eyes something that you have been wanting this long time past._

~ Homer

Grimmjow ran. The white sands of Hueco Mundo blurred beneath him as he flew over the desolate, colorless terrain. He had been running for hours; his sonido had given out a while beforehand, so he was reduced to using to pure, physical strength. His breath was coming in gasps; his lungs were burning – but through the strain, he grinned. Wild, vibrant blue eyes shone with the light of triumph, and his smile exposed sharp incisors. Although he didn't know exactly why he had chosen that moment, that day to betray Sosuke Aizen, he had.

Grimmjow ran. He didn't even know exactly why he had betrayed Aizen in the first place. Maybe it was because _he_ deserved to be king, not Aizen. Maybe it was because the lord of the arrancars was preoccupied with his new pet – that human girl who had healed his arm. Maybe it was because Grimmjow hated being ordered around, and hated Aizen for being stronger than him. Maybe it was because Grimmjow was just one nasty son of a bitch. Whatever it was, it had prompted him to commit high treason, and betray the man who had created him.

The sexta espada listened to the wind whistle past his ears, and felt it blow the light blue pieces of hair that fell onto his forehead back. He glanced down at the book clutched tightly in his right hand. The tome was old, ancient if he would venture a guess. Not that he cared. The pages were yellowed, and the binding looked fragile. He knew it wouldn't fall apart though; Aizen had reinforced it with kido. Grimmjow wasn't even exactly sure what it was. He knew that it was valuable though, and that Aizen would be furious. He allowed himself another savage grin. Gods, it felt good to be free and to be the victor. He had stolen from the _king_. And it felt incredible.

He didn't know what he was going to do now. After all, there was nowhere safe from him in Hueco Mundo anymore. He knew that soon almost all of the other espada would be chasing him, if they weren't already. Certainly Ulquiorra would be. Grimmjow curled his lips back, baring his teeth. Pale little freak. He hated him.

He knew that he would have to leave that world of constant night and darkness, and venture somewhere else. The Soul Society was obviously out of the question, so it looked like the world of the living was his only option. The sexta espada laughed. Maybe he would even run into that Ichigo Kurosaki and finally kill him once and for all. With his mind filled with thoughts of blood and violence, victory and dominance, Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez ran.

xxxxxxxXXXXXxxxxxxx

Nozomi Fukuyama sat on a rooftop and stared at the sunset. She glanced down at her zanpakuto, and spoke to it out loud.

"Well Hyakukaben, we finally did it." She looked at the city around her. "We finally got assigned to the world of the living." She smiled to herself, and stood up. The setting sun lit her face and touched her light brown hair, which was pulled back into a pair of long pigtails that fell down her back. She watched it set with big, deep brown eyes that sparkled in excitement. She had been training so long for a position in the living world, and she had finally been assigned one! It was her second week on the job and so far, things had run smoothly. Nozomi had been able to easily dispatch any hollows that had arisen.

The girl settled back against the roof and closed her eyes for a moment, relishing the beauty of the living world. She loved it here, and was proud of her accomplishment. If she was lucky and continued to do her job well, perhaps Captain Komamura would allow her to try for an officer's seat. As Nozomi's brown eyes closed, the beeping of her soul pager instantly brought her on the alert.

Nozomi's eyes widened, as she stared at the huge dot on the screen. This wasn't just any regular hollow… it had to be a menos, at the very least. Unless it was… "Arrancar…" Nozomi breathed. Placing her hand on the hilt of Hyakukaben, she quickly dialed the Soul Society and made her report. The soul reaper she spoke to assured her that help would be arriving swiftly – and in the form of a captain no less! She was ordered to merely observe the arrancar, and by no means engage it in battle.

"Understood," Nozomi responded, and shut her soul pager with a snap. Hiding her reiatsu, she silently vaulted over the rooftops, heading for the location the garganta appeared. Nearing the place, she slowed down and hid behind a rooftop, peering cautiously over the edge. Her eyes widened at what she saw.

There was a man standing there, hovering in the air above the town. His hair was light blue, the color of the sky. Nozomi's eyes followed the planes of his face down his neck, to his extremely well muscled chest and the hollow hole in his abdomen. She couldn't help but gasp at how _handsome_ he was. Although… handsome, probably wasn't the best word to describe someone that radiated so much danger. The look on his face made her shudder, just like the scars on his chest, and the wounds that were on his back and shoulders. The arrancar's white uniform was stained with blood, and he was panting – his chest heaving, dripping sweat. He looked like some sort of fallen god.

Nozomi knew that she was supposed to wait until her reinforcements arrived, but the arrancar looked like he was about to leave. As he turned, ready to speed away from that place, Nozomi took a deep breath, drew Hyakukaben, and stepped forward.

"Halt!" She was proud of how her voice didn't tremble, as she ordered the arrancar to stop. It wasn't until he froze, that she noticed the tattoo on his back, and her blood turned to ice. 6… _"Oh gods,"_ she thought, _"He's an espada."_

Grimmjow turned around slowly, the light of one crazed, blue eye catching the girl. He saw her standing there trembling, holding onto her sword like it was some kind of security blanket. He grinned, his face splitting into a smile that made the girl start to shake. Turning around completely, Grimmjow surveyed her.

"Halt?" he asked her, his voice viciously soft. "I don't think so, little girl." He raised his palm, and a cero began to charge, its red light swirling and pulsing in front of his tanned skin. "Who the fuck do you think you are, to order around someone like me?"

The girl's eyes widened, and she raised her zanpakuto futilely as the cero raced towards her. She never had a chance. The blast obliterated her completely, blowing her away in an instant. The last thing Grimmjow saw were her huge eyes, the red light of his cero reflected in them. The sexta espada turned around, refusing to wince from the pain that shot through his injured back. _"Damn Noitra…" _he thought to himself. He had barely escaped the 5th espada with his spine intact. Still, killing the little soul reaper had made him feel a little better. He turned around, reading to run and find somewhere to hide and let his wounds heal. He was met with icy teal eyes, and a small form.

"Tch," Grimmjow spat. "And who the fuck're you?"

"Toshiro Hitsugaya, Captain of Squad 10." The small captain drew his zanpakuto, and faced Grimmjow. His eyes narrowed, sending the man an icy glare. "I'm going to capture you, espada."

Grimmjow threw back his head and laughed, the sound echoing off the buildings where humans lived, blissfully unaware of the powers hovering right outside their windows.

"You sure are cocky for a little shit, aren't you?" the sexta espada asked the soul reaper. Grimmjow changed his stance, ignoring the searing pain that shot down his spine. He would have to finish the fight quickly, if he wanted to escape the pursuers he knew weren't far behind him. "Doesn't matter." Grimmjow charged and screamed, "I'll kill you where you stand!"

Toshiro drew his zanpakuto. "Rain over the frosted heavens… Hyorinmaru!" With a roar, the giant ice dragon leapt from the blade of his sword and clashed with the espada. Grimmjow caught the dragon's teeth as they began to close on his arm, and pried its mouth open. Maneuvering a hand forward, he charged a cero and sent it straight into Hyorinmaru's mouth. Blue eyes gleamed maniacally as the espada blasted the ice dragon apart. Grimmjow lived for fighting; he breathed it. He relished his own strength, and watching his enemies cower before him. He was like a savage animal – and he loved it.

"Damn it…" Toshiro swore. Gentei Kaijo had already been authorized, but his shikai still wasn't enough to bring down the injured espada. He hadn't wanted to use bankai, but… it looked like he didn't have a choice in the matter.

"Bankai." The white-haired captain snapped, and Grimmjow watched the boy form wings of ice and become part dragon. As the soul reaper charged, Grimmjow reached for his own sword. Drawing it, he began the release command.

"Grind, Pan-" midway through the command, Grimmjow froze and choked. Pain split through his spine, and he felt his arms and legs go numb. Looking up, he saw the captain's zanpakuto swing towards him. He couldn't dodge, the pain was crippling.

Toshiro's sword swung forward in a glittering arc, and he watched as the espada in front of him was incased in a pillar of ice. Feeling a grim sense of triumph, the captain lowered his sword and released his bankai. Pulling out a soul phone, he contacted the Soul Society.

"I've subdued and captured the enemy," he spoke into the receiver. "Please send a team immediately to retrieve him." Toshiro listened to the response.

"No, I'm afraid I wasn't in time to save the soul reaper in charge of this area." Listening again, he nodded curtly. "I understand."

The white-haired captain flipped the phone shut, and looked at the espada in front of him. He couldn't suppress a shudder at the look of pure hatred and pain that twisted the face of the beast in front of him. Even in the throes of agony, Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez hated his enemies.

xxxxxxxXXXXXxxxxxxx

The 10 remaining captains of the 13 Court Guard Squads stood in two lines, with Head-Captain Yamamoto at the front. The Head-Captain had just called the meeting to order – and what an interesting meeting it would turn out to be.

"As you have heard," the old man began, his rough voice even, "the reports about Captain Hitsugaya defeating and capturing the sixth espada of Sosuke Aizen's army are true. The espada known as 'Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez' is currently being held in a maximum-security cell, with a reiatsu-blocking collar being used to restrain him. He had suffered extensive and serious wounds from a battle previous to his encounter with Captain Hitsugaya, and Squad 4 has been working to heal him completely. However, he has yet to regain consciousness."

Yamamoto noticed the Captain of Squad 13, Juushiro Ukitake's eyebrows rise at this news, and turned to the frail-looking captain.

"Is there something you wish to comment upon, Captain Ukitake?" Yamamoto asked him gruffly.

Ukitake nodded slightly. "You said 'extensive wounds' from a previous battle; do we know where the wounds came from, or why?"

"Ah, an interesting question." Yamamoto folded his hands on top of his staff. "We believe that it may have something to do with the object that was in the espada's possession when he was captured."

"Item?" Captain Mayuri Kurotsuchi seemed mildly interested. "What sort of… item?"

"A book," Yamamoto answered. "A very old book, dating back to almost the beginning of the Soul Society itself, I believe."

Kurotsuchi's eyes gleamed. "Historical records? Or something of a more… useful nature?"

"We have no way of knowing its contents." The Head-Captain frowned slightly. "The book is in a language that is nothing like I have ever encountered before, either in the Soul Society or in the world of the living. However, I was able to make out one thing from the cover – the name Tenjin Mochizuki."

Captain Shunsui Kyoraku felt Ukitake stir beside him, and glanced over to his old friend. "You know something about that, Ukitake?" he asked mildly.

"The name seems familiar…" Ukitake coughed slightly. The sound was rasping and painful. "If I'm correct, I think that I ran across it in the archives many years ago when I was still in the academy."

Kyoraku laughed. "That probably means it's in one of the restricted sections."

Ukitake had the good graces to keep silent.

Surprisingly, it was Retsu Unohana, Captain of the 4th division who spoke. "Tenjin Mochizuki was one of the first kido experts of the Soul Society." Her face remained serene as she spoke. "He did ground-breaking research in healing kido, as well as bakudo and hado. However…" she paused delicately. "I believe that his research extended into some less acceptable realms, and he was sentenced to death. Much of his work disappeared."

Yamamoto looked rather surprised. "And how do you know this, Captain Unohana?"

The woman smiled modestly. "I stumbled across some of his research while looking for a cure for Captain Ukitake's condition. I'm afraid I found him to be rather interesting, and did some investigating. However, I couldn't find much. As I said, most of his work was destroyed."

"I see…" Yamamoto sighed. "If this book was in the possession of Aizen, it is most likely safe to assume that it contains information which would be dangerous to the Soul Society. Ukitake, Kyoraku."

"Yes, sir," both captains responded.

"I am placing you in charge of finding more information about this Tenjin Mochizuki. Report what you discover to me directly." The head captain stepped forward.

"Captain Kurotsuchi, you will be in charge of trying to translate the material that is in this book. You will submit frequent, detailed reports updating me on your progress."

The 12th division captain looked like he had just heard Christmas was coming early. A huge grin spread across his face, making his already unnatural appearance even more grotesque and unsettling. "Yes sir. And Head Captain…" 

"What is it?" Yamamoto was suspicious.

Kurotsuchi couldn't help but wiggle his fingers in anticipation. "After the espada is healed… perhaps I could do some tests on him? Perhaps, perform some experiments? We might gain valuable information from such ventures." He hissed slightly, letting his excitement slip through.

Yamamoto paused. Captain Kurotsuchi was known for his… unconventional methods. Although he was frequently allowed free rein due to his genius, it was possible that he might kill the espada with some twisted experiment.

"I will consider your request," he answered finally. "After he has been properly healed."

"Thank you, sir." Kurotsuchi's smile stretched even wider.

Looking across from him, Captain Kenpachi Zaraki of Squad 11 almost swore he could see him drooling with eagerness. _'Crazy bastard…'_ he thought to himself. All this talk of research and books and ancient scientists was boring as hell. Either there would be a battle, or there wouldn't. He didn't give a shit about much else.

Yamamoto gave some closing remarks, and then dismissed the captains. They all headed towards their separate divisions, each with their own thoughts about the new events taking place. It wasn't long before all the divisions were buzzing with the news – the sexta espada had been caught carrying a book that had belonged to Sosuke Aizen.

Before long the rumors spiraled upwards, becoming larger and larger, until it was said that the book Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez was carrying contained magic spells and secrets of life and death. This was the rumor Rukia Kuchiki heard from an extremely enthusiastic Renji Abarai. Shutting her soul phone, she hopped off Ichigo Kurosaki's bed, and faced the orange-haired soul reaper.

"So? What was all that about?" Ichigo leaned back in his desk chair and crossed his arms behind his head. "I could hear that idiot yelling all the way over here."

Rukia frowned slightly before she answered Ichigo's question. The name 'Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez' brought back memories of a time when she had been seriously injured by the blue haired espada, and Ichigo had almost been killed.

"You remember Grimmjow?" she knew it was a stupid question when she asked it. He wouldn't forget someone like that.

"Yeah." Ichigo's voice was cautious. "Why?"

"Captain Hitsugaya captured him a few days ago. He's in custody in the Soul Society. They found him carrying some book that's full of secrets about Aizen's power. Renji said it was a spell book or something. Apparently, it's in some unknown language." The short girl watched Ichigo's face for any expression.

"He's been… captured?" Ichigo looked a little disturbed by the news. Although Grimmjow terrified him and had sworn to kill him, had almost killed Rukia, and was a member of Aizen's army, he just couldn't fathom Grimmjow being a prisoner. He seemed too… wild. "Hmm…" Ichigo leaned forward over his desk again. "Did he have any news about Orihime?" He kept his eyes down as he asked the question.

Rukia knew the pain he was feeling. It had been a week since the girl had disappeared. She had been branded a traitor by the Soul Society, and was regarded as nothing more than trash. The only reason Ichigo hadn't gone bursting into Hueco Mundo after her, was Urahara's promise that she would be safe. The shopkeeper had assured them that if Aizen had taken her for a reason, she would be kept safe from harm until she served her purpose. It had been hard for Ichigo to accept, but…he had agreed. He would wait a while before he made any rash decisions. It still hurt though. He couldn't protect her.

"No." Rukia's voice was soft. "You know that she's going to be okay though, Ichigo." She turned deep cobalt eyes to him. "And if she's been gone too long… we'll go rescue her. Together." She smiled.

Ichigo felt the warmth in the smile, and relaxed a little. He had faith in his friends. And he knew he could trust Rukia.

"So… You're saying he had some spell book in some weird language that belonged to Aizen?" The substitute soul reaper blinked. "Why the hell would he have that?"

Rukia shrugged. "No idea. Renji's going to keep me updated. I guess we'll just have to wait and find out."

xxxxx **One Week Later** xxxxx

Grimmjow snarled at the man standing in front of him. He fucking _hated_ the freak, with his golden eyes and white skin. He hated that he was a captive, he hated that he was being forced to endure that bastard's tests and experiments, and he _fucking hated_ the truth serum he was being injected with. When he got loose… he was going to kill him.

Kurotsuchi made a note on a clipboard and looked at the espada. After one week, he had finally developed a strain of truth serum that would work on him. He had been making steady progress in that department… but he couldn't make anything out of that blasted book. No matter how many programs he ran it through, it came out gibberish. Kurotsuchi was getting frustrated. And he was going to take it out on the subject in front of him.

"Now…" he said smoothly, "Where were we? Oh yes, you were going to tell me how you got a hold of that book."

"Fuck… you…" Grimmjow's eyes blazed.

"Now, now, no need to be rude." Kurotsuchi stepped forward and pressed a button beside him, which sent more green fluid down a tube into an IV that had been thrust into Grimmjow's arm. He watched the espada's face twist in pain. "Answer the question."

"I stole it… from Aizen…" Grimmjow was fighting to keep from answering. He was furious and in so much pain. But he couldn't help but respond. _'Damn… soul reaper…'_

"Very good." Kurotsuchi made another note "Now, what are its contents?"

"Damned if I know." Even when exhausted, Grimmjow could still smirk. He raised his head up tiredly from where he was strapped down to the table. He could feel the sweat and dirt caked into his hair, and the trickles of blood down his arms from all the needles that had been inserted into his veins. "I just stole it 'cause I could. I don't even think Aizen knows what's in it."

Kurotsuchi's head came up. "That's very interesting…" he murmured to himself. "So does this mean that you defected from Aizen's army?" 

"Damn straight…" Grimmjow muttered. His strength was failing. The sedatives were kicking back in, and his vision was going hazy. Gods, he ached everywhere. "Got nowhere to go…"

The captain of Squad 12 gave a deviant smile. The espada was very interesting indeed. Yamamoto had ordered that he be kept alive, and Kurotsuchi was going to follow that order. But that didn't mean he wasn't going to get as much from the espada as he could. Turning around he left the room, shut the heavy door, and bolted it behind him. Inside the lights went out, leaving Grimmjow in darkness.

Through the numbness, Grimmjow felt hate. But also pain. And something like… loneliness. He was all alone again, in the dark.

xxxXXXxxx

Kurotsuchi finished his report and sent it to the Head Captain. Returning to his computer, he began working on the book again. He was going to crack the damn thing if it killed him. There was nothing that science couldn't solve, nothing. He just couldn't understand why the answer was eluding him…

xxxxxxxXXXXXxxxxxxx

"Still no luck with the translation," Rukia sighed as she shut her soul phone. Talking to Renji hadn't been very encouraging. It was believed (after extensive research by Captains Ukitake and Kyoraku) that the book was a lost publication by Mochizuki, containing descriptions and incantations of extremely high level, probably forbidden kido. There was hope that it would be useful, maybe even their ace in the hole, when it came to defeating Aizen. However… things weren't going smoothly.

"Why can't they give it to Urahara?" Ichigo asked, with a spoonful of cereal suspended between the bowl and his mouth. "The guy's a genius, right?"

"Yeah, but according to Renji, Captain Kurotsuchi can't crack it using any formulas or equations. That probably means Urahara can't either." She propped her chin on her hand. "This book could be the key to defeating Aizen and his espada."

"How do you figure out a new language anyways?" Ichigo muttered, staring darkly at his spoon. 2 weeks since Orihime's kidnapping… He wanted to get her back and if that book would help… he wanted it to be readable. _Now._

"You hire a translator or linguist, of course!" Yuzu's sweet voice piped up, breaking into their conversation.

"Huh…?" Ichigo looked confused.

"You asked how you figure out a new language! You hire someone who knows languages!" Yuzu laughed. "Silly Ichi, don't you know that?"

Rukia looked thoughtful. "You know… that might actually work. I wonder if we know any…"

"I do!" Yuzu laughed again. "And I know the best."

"Yuzu…" Ichigo was tired. "Now really isn't the time to-"

"Shut up, Ichigo." Karin walked into the room behind her twin. "If you paid attention to what's going on around you more, you'd know that we really do know a translator."

"Who? And how?" Rukia was curious.

"We had a speaker at school last week. Some kid in our class is obsessed with Greek mythology (he's really strange) and wrote a letter to the foremost classicist in the world. She's pretty young; apparently she's a prodigy. She travels around giving lectures and teaching and stuff. Anyways, he asked her to come speak to us, and she wrote back saying that she'd love to." Karin shrugged. "She showed up last week. Spoke fluent Japanese and everything. The teacher said she's a language genius, she can learn anything really fast. She's fluent in about 6 or 7, I think."

Cobalt eyes sparkled. "You know… that might work."

"What? Hire just some regular person to translate… Are you out of your mind?" Ichigo was staring at his short companion.

"Karin, what's her name? Do you know some way we can contact her?" Rukia leaned forward.

"Sure!" Yuzu disappeared around the corner for a moment and came back. "I have her card! She and I really hit it off, she left me her number and address and said I should stop by if I ever need help with schoolwork or anything. You should meet her, she's really amazing."

Rukia and Ichigo both looked at the small business card Yuzu laid on the table. "Weird…" Ichigo muttered. "She's Irish."

"Irish?" Rukia asked.

"Yeah. Check out her name." He pointed to the card, and they read it out loud together. "Erin Gallagher."

**To Be Continued…**

Yay! There's the end of Chapter 1. I hope you liked it! Please please please R&R. I'll give you COOKIES. (In spirit.)

Next chapter will be up soon!

-Aeilyn Montgomery


	2. The Suppliants

Hello! I'm (hopefully) going to try to update this every Friday… BUT I need motivation… like reviews? I'm really glad that people have been adding my story to their favorites and story alert though. Thank you so much!

Special thanks for reviewing to:

**Blood Makes Noise**

The other end of the phone conversation is in _**Bold Italics**_

Anyways, here comes Chapter 2.

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach or its characters. Or places. Or plot. Sigh…

**Chapter 2: The Suppliants**

"_Look down benign on us who crave Thine aid… _

_On this most gladly we step forth,_

_And in our hands aloft we bear-_

_Sole weapon for a suppliant's wear…_

~Aeschylus

xxxxxxxXXXXXxxxxxxx

_Rukia and Ichigo both looked at the small business card Yuzu laid on the table. "Weird…" Ichigo muttered. "She's Irish."_

"_Irish?" Rukia asked._

"_Yeah. Check out her name." He pointed to the card, and they read it out loud together. "Erin Gallagher."_

Ichigo looked at the card on the table. With a groan, he picked it up and handed it to Yuzu. "Oh, what the hell…" he muttered. "Has to be better than that Kurotsuchi freak anyways."

Yuzu dialed the number, reciting the numbers out loud as she pushed them. 0…6…7… 5…9…1…5…8…0…9. She paused for a moment, letting the phone ring. The other line picked up after the third ring.

"_**Hello?"**_

"Miss Gallagher? Hi! It's Yuzu Kurosaki, from Kurosaki Middle School? Remember me?"

"_**Oh, Yuzu! Of course, I haven't forgotten you that quickly." **_The voice laughed.__"_**How are you? What can I do for you?"**_

Ichigo could hear the voice on the other end of the line, faintly. Although the language was Japanese, the accent was a little strange.

Yuzu was still talking. "Well, remember how I told you about my older brother Ichigo? He-" Yuzu paused and looked over at Ichigo. "What exactly do you want her to do, Ichi?"

Rukia spoke up quickly. "Tell her that you know someone who wants to hire her for a translating job."

Yuzu relayed the message, and listened to Erin's reply.

"_**A job, eh?"**_ The voice on the other end of the line sounded a little hesitant. _**"Well… I don't typically do that sort of work…"**_

"Oh…" Yuzu's disappointment was clear. "But, this isn't just homework or anything. It's a professional job!"

The voice sighed. _**"I see… Hmm. Well, I'll tell you what. I have some free time on my hands tomorrow, so how about I meet your brother to talk about this job. How does noon sound?"**_

"Noon's fine!" Rukia's eyes were dancing. "Tell her we'll meet her at this address!" She shoved a piece of paper at Ichigo's sister.

"Sounds good!" Yuzu chirped. She gave Erin the address. "See you tomorrow then!" She hung up the phone. "See, Ichigo? I told you that she'd help!"

"She didn't sound too enthusiastic about it…" He frowned. "Are you sure she's going to listen? She might not even take us seriously."

"That," Rukia stated matter-of-factly, "is why we're going to take her to Urahara's shop. He's older than us, so he should grant us some credibility. And he'll be able to fill her in on the specifics more thoroughly." 

"Yeah, if he doesn't act like the idiot he usually does," Ichigo rolled his eyes. "Half the time, the guy acts like he belongs in a mental hospital." It was at that point that they noticed the two Kurosaki twins staring at them curiously.

"Well, time to go!" Rukia sang, as Ichigo hastily put his cereal bowl in the sink and protested as she quickly shoved him out of the door. "We'll see you guys later!" The two of them left.

Karin turned to Yuzu. "Don't you think that was a little weird?"

Yuzu looked after her older brother. "Maybe. But this might be good for him, you know. He's seemed rather down lately…"

"Yeah…" Karin watched the door as well. "Maybe you're right. If nothing else, Erin might be able to cheer him up. She's about as interesting as they come."

xxxxxxxXXXXXxxxxxxx

Urahara listened to Rukia's explanation, while sucking on a lollipop. "So let me get this straight," he began after pulling the swirled candy out of his mouth with a pop. "You want to hire a famous classicist to translate a journal by a mad scientist instead of a different mad scientist from the Soul Society? And you want me to help?"

"Yeah, that about sums it up." Ichigo smirked in spite of himself. "We've done stuff that made much less sense than that, ya know. And was more dangerous."

Urahara giggled, and waved a hand at them. "Don't be silly! That would be irresponsible!"

Rukia and Ichigo sighed. "Come on, hat 'n clogs… And try to act like an adult…"

Urahara looked at them, and then lowered his head so his face was shaded. "I'll need some time to contact the Soul Society and request the book. But they're going to need a good reason why a human is more qualified to deal with Soul Society matters than one of their own captains."

"How about their captain is a psychopath and can't get the job done?" Ichigo leaned against the wall.

"Do you really think that she can do it?" Urahara's question was mild, but Ichigo knew that he was deadly serious.

"We don't know." Rukia was honest. "But it's worth a shot. Obviously Captain Kurotsuchi isn't getting anywhere with science. It could be a good idea to get a fresh perspective and someone whose entire profession centers on languages." She produced a stack of papers out of nowhere. "And I did research on her!"

Ichigo stared at the papers. "When... How?" Rukia ignored him.

Urahara flipped through the pages. "Hmm…" His eyes were sharp as he scanned the text, mind storing away all the information he read. After a few minutes, he handed the papers back to Rukia. "I'll contact the Soul Society today, and have the book by noon tomorrow." He turned around, his coat swirling behind him. With that, Ichigo and Rukia were dismissed.

"I guess… that he's in then?" Ichigo looked confused.

Rukia watched the door slide shut behind the shopkeeper. "Yeah. But we need to be careful, Ichigo."

The substitute soul reaper nodded. Involving the shopkeeper was always a little risky. Urahara frequently had an ulterior motive, about 3 plans taking effect at any given time, and was busy plotting at least 2 more. That he had accepted consulting Erin so quickly was cause for at least curiosity, if not a little worry. _'But he wouldn't do anything to put an innocent human in danger though…'_ Ichigo thought. _'Would he?'_

xxxxxxxXXXXXxxxxxxx

"They want me to give up the book in favor of some HUMAN?" Kurotsuchi screeched. His eyes were bulging with rage, his face turning purple beneath the white makeup that was caked on his face.

Captain Ukitake winced. He knew the Squad 12 captain wasn't going to take it well, but still…

"Those are the orders from the Head Captain," Ukitake answered. "I'm here to retrieve it, and transport it to the Senkaimon."

"No. Never. Do you understand me? This is _my_ project, _my_ experiment, and _I_ will be the one who finishes it!" His rage was growing. Around him, his subordinates cringed while others slinked away in fear. No one wanted to be near the captain while he was angry. It was dangerous.

"Mayuri." Ukitake used his first name. "If you go against a direct order from the Head-Captain, there will be serious consequences. There isn't any guarantee that this human will be able to translate it. You may have the book returned to you in a matter or days. But I'm afraid I must ask you to hand it over immediately."

Kurotsuchi was seething. How dare they? How _dare_ they? How could they humiliate him like this? He had no choice but to obey the order, but he would make sure that they realized he was displeased. He would make sure that he got even for this offense. That stupid human bitch… she would be sorry she ever got involved with him. He would just have to wait for the right moment.

As Ukitake walked away from the 12th Division with the book in hand, he felt a pang of worry. He would contact Rukia to keep an eye on the human if they hired her. She would need someone with her best interests at heart. He was afraid they were throwing her unarmed into a den of lions. Politics and tempers in the Soul Society could be brutal.

xxxxxxxXXXXXxxxxxxx

At 11 o'clock the next day, Erin Gallagher walked out of her house, locked the door, and headed to the train station. She carried a bag under her arm containing a resume and portfolio of some of her work, and was dressed in business casual clothes. She had decided to treat the meeting as an actual interview… although she was very skeptical.

Erin was busy. In addition to giving lectures and teaching, she was also expected to publish articles regularly – and none of that included any work she wanted to complete on the side. The chances that the book Yuzu had asked her to look at was legitimate… and that they would even be able to strike a deal on the matter were slim. But she went anyways.

She followed the directions that Yuzu had given her, and ended up in front of a small shop with a bare front yard. She took a deep breath (why did she feel nervous?), walked forward, and knocked on the door.

Tessai opened it, and she stared up into the face of an extremely tall man in overalls, wearing glasses. "Right this way, Miss Gallagher." She followed him inside.

Urahara looked at the woman from under the brim of his hat as she entered. He surveyed her quickly, noting her clothes and what she was carrying. Her hair was a deep auburn and tumbled about halfway down her back; she had the sides pulled back and pinned at the nape of her neck with a silver brooch. Long bangs that reached below her chin were parted to the side, and fell over her right check. She was tall, about 5'6'' or 5'7'' and slim, but with the definite body of a woman. Her skin was creamy and smooth (she was very fair) and her eyes were a cool gray-blue. They sparkled with intelligence and life; he knew that while he was surveying her, she was surveying the rest of them. Urahara nodded to himself; he liked what he saw. He had a good feeling about her.

"Welcome, welcome!" Urahara sang out suddenly, leaping to his feet and pulling out his fan. "I'm Kisuske Urahara, a humble shopkeeper from Karakura Town. This is Rukia Kuchiki and Ichigo Kurosaki."

Erin bowed. "It's a pleasure to meet you all." He smile was warm, but she didn't waste any time getting to the point. "I understand that you wanted to talk to me about a translating job?"

"Yes, yes, please sit down." Urahara waved his fan at a seat. "Tessai!" He called. "Bring the book."

The tall man entered the room, carrying an ancient-looking book carefully in his hands. He bore it almost reverently, stepping cautiously. Erin watched him curiously, as Tessai laid it on the table between the four of them, and then left the room. Urahara motioned to the book, and Erin reached out gingerly and picked it up.

Glancing at the cover, the first thing she noticed was the name in Japanese, although it was faded with age. _'Tenjin Mochizuki…' _Erin thought to herself. _'The name isn't familiar.'_ But the strange thing, was the symbols that were above the name. Her eyes traced them, before she gently opened the cover and leafed through a few pages. The entire book was written in those strange markings. Her mind whirred, sifting through all the bits and pieces of the languages that she knew. The construct looked vaguely Japanese… but there were no punctuation marks, capital letters, or spaces. _'Greek construction… maybe Latin rules would help in figuring word breaks…'_ Erin was lost in thought for a while, tracing symbols with her fingers, examining the pages.

Rukia shifted nervously. Erin had been silent for a while. She could tell that the woman was thinking, but she wondered what _about_. Could she really help?

After what seemed like an eternity, Erin raised her head. "What language is this?" Her accent had thickened slightly, making her words a bit harder to understand.

"We don't know." Urahara's face was unreadable.

"Where did it come from?"

"It was discovered in a library. We believe it to be thousands of years old."

Erin frowned. "I see…" She was quickly lost in thought again.

While she was preoccupied, Urahara took the opportunity to look through her resume. _Born in Ireland, now age 25… Moved to America and attended high school… graduated at the age of 16… finished undergrad at 19… doctorate by 22… studied in Greece, Italy, and Israel… fluent in Gaelic, English, Latin, Attic Greek, Japanese, Arabic, Spanish, Hebrew… multiple article publications… world-renowned speaker…_ Erin Gallagher was impressive, a prodigy indeed. Now, could she do the impossible?

Erin finally placed the book back on the table. "What exactly is it that you want me to do?"

"Translate this." Rukia said. She turned deep blue eyes on her. "And as quickly as possible."

"We're prepared to pay any price." Urahara tilted his head back, until one eye gleamed at her. "We want you solely for a translating job. It is impossible for us to tell you why we have this or where this came from, or any other specifics. It would be better if you were kept relatively uninformed. Except for what is pertinent to your job, of course."

Erin was conflicted. The terms sounded suspicious… and slightly illegal. _'Could they be dealing on the black market? Could this be stolen?'_ she wondered. She glanced around the table surreptitiously. Ichigo and Rukia looked young… but this Urahara seemed strange. She could get into serious trouble, taking a job like this. However… this was the opportunity of a lifetime. If the book truly contained a new language, it would be a privilege, a thrill to figure it out. To translate it. To _learn_. This was what she loved, what she lived for. Language was her passion, her life; it was what she _knew_. Could she really pass up such an offer?

She couldn't. "Very well." Erin smiled slightly. "I'm in."

"Really? Thank you!" Rukia broke out into a grin, trying and failing to remain professional.

Erin couldn't help but grin back. It wasn't in her nature to stay serious that long. "So," she began cheerfully, "I expect that you want me to begin right away?"

"Yes, and we would like this completed as soon as possible. Say… a month?" Urahara waved his fan in front of his face.

"A month?" The grin vanished and the Irish woman stared. "You want me to translate some foreign, undiscovered language, in a month?" She leaned back. "Can't be done."

"Can't?" Ichigo looked at her curiously.

Erin paused for a moment. And then a sly smile spread across her face. "Unless it's me, of course. All right then, Mr. Urahara, you're got yourself a deal." She stretched out a hand across the table, and Urahara shook it. The deal was made and sealed. Erin Gallagher (although unbeknownst to her) was officially employed by the Soul Society.

Urahara led Erin aside to talk about her payment, leaving Rukia and Ichigo alone for a few minutes. Ichigo looked over at the small soul reaper sitting across from him. "You sure this is a good idea?"

"Half the stuff we do isn't a good idea, Ichigo." Rukia smiled. "But I think this will turn out all right. You and I can keep an eye on her to make sure nothing happens, and I'm sure that Urahara will take some precautions of his own. Aizen is certainly searching for his book, so the Soul Society will want to keep it hidden, especially in the world of the living. Things will be fine. Don't worry so much."

"Sure…" Ichigo's characteristic scowl stole over his face. The poor woman had no idea what she was getting herself into. Still, she _was_ nice to look at. Not that he'd ever say that out loud.

xxxXXXxxx

Erin and Urahara shook hands again, as they settled her fee as a consultant. "I expect that you have questions you want to ask me," Urahara began, "And-"

"Mr. Urahara." Erin interrupted. Her eyes were intense as she looked at the shopkeeper. "I understand that I agreed to withhold any questions that aren't relevant to my work. However… I must ask one. If I accept this job, I need to know – will I be in any danger?"

Urahara's eyes were shaded. "Yes."

Erin nodded. "All right."

"Now, I have a question for you." He had pulled his fan back out and was waving it slightly. "Is there anything that I should know about that could in any way hinder your work? Any… distractions that could arise?"

Erin shook her head slowly. "I can rearrange my schedule to remove all the lectures I have to give… I do have an article due in about a week." She paused. "And there is a dinner that I have to attend, at the end of the month." She noticed Urahara's hand pause momentarily. "I'm sorry Mr. Urahara, but it's unavoidable."

Urahara was suddenly cheerful again. "Well then, it can't be helped!" He laughed. "Now that you're my employee, how about some tea?" Without allowing her any time to answer, his hand was on her back and she was ushered through the door back to the room with Ichigo and Rukia.

xxxxxxxXXXXXxxxxxxx

Everything around Grimmjow was hazy. He kept drifting in and out of consciousness, in and out of pain. But Grimmjow had a plan, and it was the one point of clarity in a world that was blurred and murky. He had a plan to escape this hellhole that was Kurotsuchi's lab.

He snarled to himself. He was going to escape… And then he was going to find that fucking book that had started all of this. He was going to find it, and use it to make the Soul Society pay. He had to get back to the world of the living anyways… there was nowhere to hide here.

His eyes cracked open, seeing the dim red light of machines that surrounded him. He knew that if he shifted, the needle that was currently embedded in his neck would send a shooting pain down his spine. Fucking psychopath… he couldn't wait to see those damn golden eyes filled with fear as he ripped him to shreds…

But he waited. He fought through the fog in his head, waiting for the moment he knew the lab assistant would come into the room to check the equipment and change the IV. The assistant would have the key to unlock the door to the room. As soon as the needle was out, Grimmjow was planning on startling the man, killing him, and stealing his keys. He had been working at the restraint on his left wrist for hours, until his skin was scraped off and his hand was slick enough with blood that he thought he could pull it underneath the metal brace.

Soon, the door opened and the man in the lab coat, Joji, scuttled in. The big arrancar always made him nervous, even when he was unconscious like he was now. He stared at the muscled man for a moment, noting his disheveled hair and the blood that was caked on his body. He shivered. Grimmjow was _scary_. All the more reason to do his job quickly and escape.

Joji tiptoed forward, and pressed a few buttons on the machines. He quickly removed the needle from Grimmjow's neck and was placing it on a table, when he thought he heard something behind him. Turning around, the burning eyes of the sexta espada drilled into his, and Grimmjow growled in his throat, lunging against the restraints. Joji dropped the syringe, shattering it on the ground, falling beside it and pulling himself backwards along the floor.

Grimmjow grinned maliciously. He ripped his hand out from under the restraint, ignoring the pain. Reaching up, he ripped the collar around his neck that restrained his reiatsu. He watched Joji shaking in terror, as he raised a hand and wrenched off the other restraints. Falling forward, he advanced slowly on his hands and knees towards the fallen man.

Joji was frozen in terror. He couldn't even scream. Those eyes… those vicious eyes kept him glued to the spot. Grimmjow was a predator, stalking his prey. Joji knew he was going to die. He raised a hand in front of his face, as the espada's hand rushed towards his throat.

Grimmjow tossed the lifeless body aside, and grabbed his keys. Staggering to his feet, he took a deep breath and headed towards the door. Unlocking it, he slipped through silently. He didn't look behind him as he left the room. He shut the door behind him, ignoring his blood that spattered the floor, the shattered needles and restraints, and the broken corpse behind him.

He slid through the hallways, straining every sense to the limit. He moved like a shadow, slipping by without leaving a trace.

No one would notice his absence until a few hours later, when Joji never reported in and Nemu went to investigate. They still wouldn't know where he had gone when Kurotsuchi beat his lieutenant until she bled, or when his rage chased the other squad members from their posts. Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez had disappeared – and even when the alarm was sounded in the Soul Society, no one could find him.

xxxxxxxXXXXXxxxxxxx

When Ichigo and Rukia left Urahara's, they were both still smiling. For the past hour they had talked with Erin and listened to stories of her travels and studies around the world. It was somewhere during the story of Erin and her friends scaring a guard at Buckingham Palace by "accidentally" encouraging a stampede of dwarf goats (or maybe it was when they chased a flock of pigeons in Rome which knocked two tourists into a fountain and left "presents" all over a police officer) that Ichigo finally pushed past a smile, and laughed.

Rukia had looked surprised at the sound – Ichigo had barely so much as cracked a smile since Orihime had been abducted. To hear him laugh was… relieving, if not to say a bit startling. But Rukia knew just how he felt. Erin was engaging; her eyes sparkled as she told a story, she would lean forward, draw her listener in. Of course, it helped that her stories were interesting to begin with. Apparently, although an excellent student, Erin had a knack for getting into trouble. She teasingly said it was the Irish in her.

As the two of them headed for the Kurosaki house, Ichigo's smile slowly disappeared. He had had fun… For the first time since Orihime… No. He didn't want to think about that. He felt guilty about laughing, about having a good time. It didn't feel right when Orihime was trapped in another world. He shouldn't be enjoying himself when his friend was gone. He shook himself mentally. But it had felt good to relax for a bit. He liked Erin; she was interesting, and had a good sense of humor. He was glad that they'd be seeing more of her.

xxxxxxxXXXXXxxxxxxx

Erin ran a hand through her hair in frustration. She'd had the book for 5 days, and had barely gotten anywhere. Oh, she was making progress, but not as quickly as she would have liked. Not that she had thought it was going to be easy, puzzling out a new language, but still… she was tired, and rather stressed.

She had done hours of research, brushing up on her use of Japanese and other languages. She'd read articles on translating, tried to find anything comparable to the symbols, and had even called a few colleagues (of course, she'd been very careful about what she said.) After finishing her research, she had begun working on the alphabet first. She needed letters before she could begin figuring anything out.

She had started with the name on the cover – Tenjin Mochizuki. There had to be a reason that the name was in Japanese, and not in the same language as the rest of the book. After all, Erin knew that books were written to be _read_. And she had a feeling that this Mochizuki believed the same thing. So she began looking for similarities in the characters, meaning, syllables, anything. Hours of pouring over pages, hours of writing possibilities… and then a breakthrough. The symbols in the book weren't simply characters – they were letters. She had managed to translate a partial alphabet so far, but the going was slow. There was double checking and triple checking and cross checking. While exhausting however, it was rewarding. Every new discovery was a new piece of the puzzle. She loved it, but it was painstakingly slow.

"Well," she said to no one in particular, "I believe that a coffee break is in order." Pushing her chair back she slowly got up, stretched, and headed for the kitchen. It was only her 7th cup of the day… she was doing well.

xxxXXXxxx

Grimmjow staggered through the streets. It wasn't hard shielding his reiatsu – he barely had any left. His whole body ached, and he could feel blood dripping down his hands and ankles from the cruel restraints. He had made it to the world of the living, and had managed to track the book. The tome had its own strange energy reading, and he had become familiar with it after carrying it around Hueco Mundo.

The neighborhood he was dragging himself through was silent, the streetlights casting warm pools of light on the sidewalk. Grimmjow gritted his teeth and fell to his knees. He couldn't walk any more, his strength was giving out. Through blurring vision, he saw the house in front of him. Crawling on his hands and knees, he dragged himself forward. He growled in his head. He was so close… he couldn't sense anyone else of significant strength nearby. He could make it, he knew he could. He crawled onto the doorstep, and raised a fist to batter down the door.

'_Damn it…'_ he swore to himself. _'Fucking Soul Reapers…'_ As he slipped from consciousness, his fist fell and slammed into the door.

xxxXXXxxx

The sudden bang scared Erin so badly, she dropped her cup of coffee. The mug shattered on the floor, spilling the black liquid everywhere on the hardwood, which steamed slightly in the air. She froze, looking at the door. After a few minutes of silence, she crept forward slowly. Making her way towards the entrance, she gathered the courage to speak.

"H-hello?" There was no answer. "Is anyone there?" Silence.

Reaching the door, she took a deep breath, unlocked it, and yanked it open. She bit back a scream as a bloody arm fell through the doorway, and landed on her floor. Staring down at her doorstep, she looked at the unconscious and battered man lying there. She noted his wounds, the blood and the dirt, and his tattered clothes. She also noticed his face – the teal markings at the corners of his eyes, the light blue hair, and his strong features and well-muscled body.

"Well…" she mused. "You're not your average visitor, are you? So tell me, mysterious stranger, who exactly are you?"

**To Be Continued…**

Well, here's Chapter 2. I hope you liked it! Please R&R, the next chapter will be coming soon!

-Aeilyn Montgomery


	3. On Dreams

Hey! Sorry this is a few days late; I was in DC for the weekend. That city is _not_ conducive to writing.

I'd really like to thank:

**stormcrowley**

**riekie**

**Minako-senpai**

for their great reviews. I appreciate the comments and opinions; I hope that they'll help me write better and keep this story interesting.

So, without further ado, here comes Chapter 3!

Disclaimer: Bleach belongs entirely to Tite Kubo. However, Erin is mine.

**Chapter 3: On Dreams**

_We must, in the next place, investigate the subject of the dream, and first inquire to which of the faculties of the soul it presents itself, i.e. whether the affection is one which pertains to the faculty of intelligence or to that of sense-perception; for these are the only faculties within us by which we acquire knowledge._

-Aristotle

xxxxxxxXXXXXxxxxxxx

"_Well…" she mused. "You're not your average visitor, are you? So tell me, mysterious stranger, who exactly are you?" _

Erin was really at a loss about what to do. After all, it wasn't every day that chiseled, half-dead men ended up in front of her door. Leaning down cautiously, she poked the man softly in the shoulder. He didn't move. Gaining a little bit of confidence, she poked him again, harder. Still nothing.

Straightening up again, she sighed. _'I should probably call an ambulance…'_. As she turned around to head back inside and grab a phone, the door to the house across the street opened. Erin froze. _'Oh my god, what are they going to think?'_ She started to panic. _'He looks dead…'_

"Oi! Good evening, Erin! How are you tonight?" The man waved as he carried his garbage out to the end of his driveway.

'_What the heck…? Doesn't he see him?'_ Erin looked down at Grimmjow, and then back up at her neighbor. _'Am I dreaming? Or hallucinating? Maybe I really should stop drinking so much coffee…'_

"Uh, fine, thank you. So, Mr. Fukuyama?" she hesitated. "Do you… notice anything different about…" she motioned downwards. "That?"

Her neighbor stared at her. Erin was certainly acting strangely. Although she wasn't exactly _normal_ to begin with, she was acting more unusual than average. "No?" he answered curiously. "What am I missing?"

Erin's mind whirred. "Well, nothing really, you see, I just-" He was still staring at her, and his confusion was turning into skepticism (probably for her sanity). "Planters!" she burst out, suddenly. "I was supposed to get planters, but there aren't any, and I was wondering if you noticed." She smiled nervously. "Uh, anyways, tell your wife I said hello!"

Mr. Fukuyama nodded, and walked rather quickly back towards his house, shooting her a strange look over his shoulder as he left.

Erin watched the door close, waving. As soon as he was gone, she smacked herself in the forehead. "Planters?" she hissed. "Really Erin, sometimes I can't believe people actually pay you to teach them."

She glanced back down at the unconscious espada. "Well, what am I supposed to do with you? If you're actually real… and not just some dream." She paused. "Although, my dream men are usually less… scary."

Getting down on her knees, Erin looked at Grimmjow more closely. Dream or not, she couldn't just leave him lying there. He _was_ seriously injured… So what could she do? First, she needed to get an idea of his injuries. He obviously had to be brought inside; he wouldn't survive long if she left him alone on her doorstep.

She gently examined his wrists where the skin had been ripped off, and then his arms. Noting the needle marks in various places, she couldn't help wondering if he was actually a drug addict. But he couldn't have been a very good one; the needle marks were spread out to include certain un-ideal places for drug use.

It was when she moved his shirt aside to look at his back and chest that she saw the hole – and consequently jumped away from the body.

'_What? How is that possible? How is he not dead? Why isn't he bleeding? What is he? What __**are**__ you?'_ Erin's eyes were huge. She bit her lip nervously. Maybe… this was a bad idea. It probably was a bad idea. Maybe she should just call someone… But if no one could see him besides her, how would that help? And then there it was, her damned curiosity again. She wanted to know what he was, and where he came from, and if he could speak. He piqued her curiosity, and a burning desire to learn more. A desire to learn more…

"I wonder…" her gray-blue eyes grew serious. "If you have anything to do with that book?"

Moving forward again, Erin looked more closely at the hole in his abdomen. It didn't look like an injury. It was more like someone had taken a cookie-cutter and just sliced a piece away. Reaching out ever so slowly, she slid her hand inside the hole, and touched the edge. It was the strangest thing – smooth and warm. She slid her hand forward, until her hand was all the way through Grimmjow's hollow hole, and out the other side. She quickly snatched it back; it was the weirdest feeling, reaching _through_ someone.

"All right, time to go inside," Erin grunted, putting her hands underneath his armpits and starting to drag him backwards. God, he was heavy, completely dead weight. She managed to pull him partway through her door, when she noticed something on his face. It looked almost like a fragment of bone that was attached by… nothing. She considered touching it, but decided against it. For some reason that she couldn't explain, it felt a little too intimate. And it was rather frightening. The man in general was frightening.

Suddenly, the bone fragment on the man's face reminded her of the shattered ceramic fragments scattered across her kitchen floor. Laying him down gently, Erin grabbed a broom and dustpan and cleaned up the broken mug. While she was inside, a couple of cars passed. Since she didn't hear squealing tires or screaming, she assumed that they couldn't see her mysterious visitor either.

After what seemed like ages of struggling, Erin managed to get Grimmjow into the house and hoist him onto her couch, where she proceeded to treat his injuries to the best of her abilities. Which, granted, weren't the best. But she tried.

xxxXXXxxx

A few hours later, Erin sat in a chair facing her couch and the man that was lying on it. She was holding a fresh cup of coffee, and took a sip from it as she gazed at him pensively. Her resolution to leave off the stuff had only lasted about an hour… she needed something to calm herself down.

To tell the truth, Erin didn't know what was wrong with her. She had accepted the entire situation and dealt with it surprisingly well. Scarily well. She had just brought a dangerous looking, seriously injured stranger into her home, and to top it off, he was clearly something very alien. And only she could see him. She couldn't understand why she wasn't being more… cautious.

Well, she could. She was no stranger to myths and legends; she loved translating them. In fact, she had written her final project for her undergrad on Greek myths she had translated herself. Perhaps it was the belief in things that were unseen that captivated her imagination and her spirit. Or maybe, she couldn't help but wish there were things that people couldn't control or predict. Maybe she had been hoping for years for something completely new and amazing. Something impossible. And miraculously enough, she had found it. It had fallen right into her lap. It was a pity it looked so deadly.

But Erin wasn't stupid. She knew what she should do, and what she would do. She was going to call Kisuke Urahara, and inform him of her visitor. It would be safest, and the smart thing to do. She had always had a propensity for getting into trouble – but she was never needlessly reckless. So, she would call Urahara, and see if he knew the best course of action. She couldn't shake the feeling that the battered stranger's appearance had something to do with that book.

Erin got up and stretched. But, the call would have to wait until tomorrow. It was very late, and she didn't think that the man would be waking up any time soon; he was in pretty bad shape. Getting up from the chair, she placed the mug in the sink and then went to get ready for bed.

"What a day…" she whispered to herself. When she went into her bedroom, she locked the door behind her.

xxxxxxxXXXXXxxxxxxx

Grimmjow was sore; almost everything ached. But he was _alive_. Opening his eyes slowly, he felt a slight prick as his pupils adjusted to the light shining through the curtains.

'_Curtains? Where the hell am I?'_ He looked around him slowly, without moving more than his eyes. There was a wooden table with a glass top in front of him, and a couple of chairs on the other side of it. A large wooden cabinet with a strange, flat screen in it and numerous shelves holding cases of some sort was against the wall.

The floors were wooden, polished, and a rich reddish-brown. There were windows in two walls, with deep red curtains. The light in the room was warm; it was decorated to feel cozy. Pictures were hanging on the walls, and there were shelves with numerous strange things in them – vases, urns, statues, dishes, baskets, and more. Erin's home was a bit like a museum.

Grimmjow didn't understand where he was. The last thing he remembered was reaching for the door to a human house… He froze. He wasn't inside that house was he?

Reaching forward, he dug his fingers into the back of the couch, and wrenched himself up. He felt the pain split through him, but refused to wince or make a sound. He had come here for a reason – to kill that human, and steal the book back.

Placing his feet on the floor, he stood up stiffly, baring his teeth against the pain. He took a step forward when he heard the woman's voice.

"-so you'll be over right away, then? Thank you Mr. Urahara." There was a pause. "Yes, he's still unconscious. I'll be waiting."

There was a click, and then footsteps. Grimmjow tensed as they neared him, and a figure stepped into the doorway. He raised a fist to deal with the intruder… and then noticed who it was – a human woman, with no reiatsu whatsoever.

He saw her eyes widen in fear as she took a step backwards, reaching for the door handle behind her. She was getting ready to flee. His reiatsu rose as his temper did. Pathetic, fucking weakling. Humans didn't deserve to live. They were worthless.

The espada saw her pale, and assumed that she was just becoming more terrified. However, the woman's hand flew to her throat, and he saw her begin to gasp for breath. She couldn't breathe… she was suffocating. She dropped to her knees as her eyes began to dull; the light that sparkled in the gray-blue orbs was fading.

At first Grimmjow didn't understand what was happening, or why she was suddenly dying in front of him – and then it hit him. The simple presence of his reiatsu was crushing her soul. He was killing her merely by being in the room and letting his reiatsu flow partially unrestrained. She couldn't survive, or stand the pressure. Her body and essence were breaking down.

He watched as she tilted forward and fell to the floor, her dark red hair spilling around her. Grimmjow couldn't help but smirk. The color reminded him of congealed blood. He liked it.

He staggered forward, stepping over her body in disgust. Sickening. The espada sniffed the air, tilting his head back and searching to see if he could sense any trace of the book. He didn't have time to waste; the Soul Society was probably searching for him, and he had no idea how long he'd been unconscious. He was in a hallway, with doorways opening on both sides. _Bathroom… closet… bedroom… study… _he paused in front of a doorway, and stared. This room was larger than the others. Books lined the walls to the ceiling; there must have been hundreds of them. The library was huge. What better place to hide a book?

'_Must be in here…'_ Grimmjow stepped forward and staggered. He looked at the bandages around his arms and chest, and the bloodstains that were darkening some of them. _'Why the fuck would that woman help me?'_ he couldn't help wondering. It didn't make sense that the prey would help the predator, or the weak the strong. Stupid. She should have known he would kill her.

Since he couldn't feel it, he would have to search the old-fashioned way. Grabbing a fistful of books, he yanked them off the shelves. Not seeing the one he needed, he threw them aside and grabbed another bunch. Pile after pile of books landed on the floor, breaking bindings and tearing pages. The floor was completely covered when he felt the reiatsu's approaching. Throwing down the last of the books on a shelf, he turned towards the window in a wall, and jumped through. The glass shattered and fell, littering the concrete and floor as the espada landed outside.

Grimmjow growled to himself as he began to run; he hated fleeing. But he couldn't fight; he didn't have the strength. Hell, he couldn't even use his sonido yet. Fucking soul reapers… humans… Aizen. He hated them all. All he wanted was to return to Hueco Mundo, kill the other fucking idiots, and take over his rightful place as king. He deserved to be king, and he would be. As long as he survived.

He was startled when a man in overalls with braided hair and glasses appeared in front of him. He was even more surprised when a strange-looking man with a hat and cane landed behind him, and he was shocked when the cane became a zanpakto, and he heard the command – "Scream, Benihime."

The blast caught him in the side, and he was blown backwards. This was getting ridiculous; he was caught again? He must have been losing his touch… Grimmjow opened his mouth to spit out an insult, but he only coughed up blood. His vision, tinged with red, began to fade to black. His last sensation before unconsciousness was rage.

xxxxxxxXXXXXxxxxxxx

Ichigo burst in through the doorway, followed closely by Rukia. "Where is she?" He yelled, his voice continuing. "Is she okay? Where's that damn son of a bitch? What the hell is wrong with you, Urahara? Why-"

Tessai's huge hand silenced Ichigo's next question. The orange-haired soul reaper continued to struggle against Tessai, and Rukia sighed as his face began to turn red, and then purple from a lack of oxygen. His struggling ceased, and then turned frantic as Tessai continued to smother him. She shook her head as Ichigo managed to pry Tessai's hand from his face, and then began berating him for almost smothering him to death. Men…

Urahara stepped out from a back room, waving his fan lazily. "Hello Ichigo, Rukia. I see you're here to visit our guests."

Ichigo instantly turned serious. "Yeah. Where are they?"

"Follow me, please." Tessai led them to the back room, before leaving to make some tea.

"Erin…" Ichigo knelt beside the woman. Her breathing was barely audible, and her skin was pale and clammy. He turned to Urahara. "What happened?"

The shopkeeper shrugged. "I'm not exactly sure. The good news is the she didn't have any physical damage; it was all spiritual. The bad news is, that will take longer to heal. She was barely alive when we found her."

Rukia's face showed her concern. "What was she doing with an espada in her home? Especially Grimmjow?"

"How could she even see him?" Ichigo didn't take his eyes from her still form.

"Ah… about that…" For the first time, Urahara looked a little uncomfortable.

"Hat and clogs… what the hell did you do?" Ichigo growled.

He laughed a little nervously. "I may have… slipped a drug into her tea that enabled her to see hollows, espada, soul reapers, etc…"

"What. Did. You. Say?" Ichigo's reiatsu was flaring. "The reason that Erin could see and help Grimmjow was you gave her a DRUG?"

Urahara winced. "I didn't know she'd go around helping espada," he whined. "I thought it would be good if she could see what was attacking her, if it came to that. There's a chance being around that book could give her a faint reiatsu reading, even if it's not her own. She could start attracting hollows."

Ichigo ran a hand through his hair in exasperation. "Great. Just great."

Rukia looked down at the unconscious human. "You said she called you this morning, after she'd already bound Grimmjow's wounds?"

Urahara looked rather happy to be talking to someone other than Ichigo. "Yes. She said she didn't inform me of his presence last night, was because she figured that he'd be unconscious longer. To tell the truth, I would have guessed the same thing. His injuries were extremely serious. It's taking Tessai longer than expected to heal all of them."

"Why the hell are you healing him?" Ichigo stared at him. "Shouldn't he go back to the Soul Society, or something?"

Urahara moved his fan in front of his face. "Perhaps."

"Perhaps?" Rukia looked at him suspiciously. "What are you planning, Urahara?"

"Oh, no reason. He might make a good mascot for the shop…"

"You want to study him, don't you?" Rukia asked coldly.

Urahara didn't move his fan. "Anything I do will be kinder than whatever Kurotsuchi could dream up. There's not point in returning him to his prison just yet. Of course, I'll make sure that he's completely harmless."

"Right…" Ichigo looked unconvinced. "But Erin is going to be fine, right?"

"She should be." Urahara paused. "But we can't tell what the psychological toll will be. Or if she'll still be willing to translate for us."

"True." Rukia sat down softly beside Erin as well. "It's her decision."

xxxxxxxXXXXXxxxxxxx

Erin sighed as Tessai handed her another cup of coffee. Cup 5… Tessai wondered how she could drink that many in a row. He watched as she downed half of it in a gulp. For being petit and pretty… she drank like an alcoholic.

Erin placed the mug on the table softly, and ran a hand through her hair. She needed a shower… and Tylenol… and therapy. Lots and lots of therapy.

It had been three days since she had had her close brush with death. She had woken up partway through the second, and had been resting ever since. Well… "resting" was a relative term. After Urahara, Ichigo and Rukia had filled her in about the Soul Society, hollows, Aizen, espada, Rukia's almost-execution, the approaching Winter War, Orihime, and her attacker (what kind of a name was Grimmjow?), she had promptly laid back down on her blankets and pulled a pillow over her face. She had finally emerged a few hours later, and asked for coffee. Lots of coffee.

Rukia was concerned. Erin hadn't spoken a word (discounting the scores of questions she had asked during the story, or course) after they had finished their story, except to ask for coffee. She wasn't sure how the classicist was doing with all the information. There was a good chance she was in shock. It was needless to say that she was relieved, when Erin broke the silence.

"I want to see him."

"What?" Rukia's relief disappeared. 

"Grimmjow. I want to see him."

"Why?" The petit soul reaper was confused.

"Because I'm afraid of him." Erin took another sip of coffee. "He scares me. And I don't like being afraid. I'm thinking that if I see him, I may feel better. As long as he's unconscious or in a straightjacket, of course."

Rukia smiled slightly. "All right." She led Erin to the storage room, where Grimmjow was being kept.

The red-haired human gazed down at the unconscious espada. Even then, his face was full of tension. He was fascinating, really. And quite attractive. Erin laughed at herself, internally. She had always had terrible taste in men. Looking at him, she still couldn't stifle the curiosity that rose. Erin wanted to know more about this curious creature and his world. Although terrifying, all the information she had learned was a little exhilarating. It was just like a myth… and she was living right in the middle of it. A small smile graced her face. Who would have guessed her life would be this exciting?

"Thank you." Erin smiled at Rukia, grey-blue eyes warming. "For everything. Now, if it's all right with you, I'd like to go home."

Rukia nodded. "We'll have to ask Urahara." She paused. "Erin…"

"Yes?"

Rukia looked at her seriously. "Are you sure that you still want to translate for us? After everything you've heard? You're only a human; it would be easy for even the weakest arrancar to kill you. You'll be in perpetual danger."

Erin's exhilaration faded. Rukia was right… Perhaps she was being naïve about the entire situation. But she had agreed to a contract, one that she was going to fulfill. Grimmjow didn't matter, and neither did the Soul Society. What mattered was the book hidden in her apartment, and how quickly she could translate it. Worrying about espadas and wars would have to wait.

xxxXXXxxx

Erin walked slowly through the door of her home. Her eyes travelled to the couch Grimmjow had laid in, and the bloodstains on the fabric. Ugh. Although she knew now that normal people couldn't see them, she didn't want to spend her days sitting on gory furniture. A new couch was in order.

She headed towards her library. Urahara had said that her window had been replaced… But when she saw the mess, she almost cried. All her precious books on the floor that had to be picked up, repaired, organized by subject, alphabetized, and put away…

She groaned.

**To be continued…**

Well, there's chapter 3! I hope that you liked it. As always, reviews are greatly appreciated!

-Aeilyn


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